In Sickness and in Health
by sheisbeautiful-sheisnotme
Summary: Rick's always taken care of himself, never looking for anyone to help him. Now that Evelyn Carnahan is in his life, maybe, just maybe, he can accept a helping hand.


Rick O'Connell had never had someone take a personal interest in his well being before. Growing up in the Cairo orphanage, injuries and illnesses were by and large ignored by the staff who ran the place, unless someone was bleeding nonstop or got so sick they couldn't breathe. When he went to live with his uncle in the States, he was old enough to understand that any attention to his health was to be his own responsibility. Rick was fortunate that by and large he was a healthy child and young man, never facing an illness more serious than lasting just one night.

When Rick became a professional soldier, he had learned how to take care of battle wounds, both on himself and his comrades. He learned to splint sprained joints, bind cracked ribs, set broken bones, even shove a needle and thread through especially deep cuts. Rick wasn't against doctors; there were simply never any on the battlefield and he had taken care of himself just fine so far.

That changed when he met Evelyn Carnahan. Granted, nearly everything in his life seemed to have changed when he met Evelyn, except for his predilection for danger. Rick had certainly gotten injured in his other quests but never so much from just one foe. Imhotep (and his immortal warriors; maybe the injuries _were_ from more than one bad guy) had thrown him around, sliced at him, even nearly choked the life out of him. That he was able to run from a collapsing pyramid and ride off into the sunset on a camel, all while supporting Evelyn, he chalked up to adrenaline and a well-honed fight-or-flight reflex. While atop the camel he could feel the aches making themselves known, but holding a now-sleeping Evelyn helped him push the pain to the side.

It was a lengthy, bumpy ride back to Cairo, and Rick was looking forward to sleeping in his bed for a long, long time. After arriving at their hotel, it was only then the trio realized the treasure that was now in their possession. They decided they would go through the treasure after a good night's sleep, and that the sacks of gold would stay in Rick's room. Jonathan tried to argue the loot should be kept in his sister's room. Evie, knowing her brother's penchant for trying to get more than his fair share of any prize, perked up enough to interject that Jonathan could stand to not see the gold for another night.

It was as Rick was unloading the gold that he couldn't suppress a groan of pain, as the heavy bags jostled his bruised ribs. Evelyn happened to hear him and gave him a curious glance, but said nothing. Jonathan announced that since they weren't letting him look at "what was rightfully his," he would retire to his room to wash off the day's filth and sleep. Evelyn excused herself for the moment, and Rick took advantage of the relative quiet to find his room, peel off his dirty, gritty clothing and allow himself to feel safe for the first time in days.

As he was tossing his shirt to the floor, he heard a voice from the doorway.

"Just as I thought."

He looked up to see Evelyn leaning on the door frame, a first aid kit in her hands, eyes roaming his body. His first wild thought was now that Evie had finally seen him without his shirt, she liked what she saw, and might have even thought about it before. It wasn't until he looked down that he realized she was talking about the bruises that littered his torso. Not wanting her to worry about a few bumps and bruises, he placated her. "Really, Evelyn, I'm fine. I've had worse in the French Foreign Legion."

"As encouraging a fact as that is, it remains that you are injured and I don't really care how tough you are in this moment, Mr. O'Connell," she said with a smirk. "Possibly cracked ribs are nothing to take lightly. Now please, sit down on the bed so that I may help you."

Rick followed her orders and sat on the corner of the bed. "Don't think me ungrateful, but exactly what medical training does a librarian receive?"

"I hope you don't think I merely look at the pretty covers of all the books I come across, do you?" Evie asked as she walked around the bed to look at his back. "I have read a medical text or two. And Jonathan was prone to injury growing up. He always seemed to get most hurt when Mother and Father were traveling. I learned how to treat most injuries a rambunctious 15-year-old boy receives. Now, don't move."

Evelyn dipped a rag into a basin of water, rang out the excess, and gently ran the cloth over his scrapes, slowly washing the dried blood away. He had scrapes on his back he hadn't known about, and Evie was painstakingly cautious to clean his cuts. Not that Rick was complaining. Evie's treatment of him was more intimate and more invested than many of the women he had slept with. Evelyn came around front, focusing on his arms, when finally she announced she had gotten all the dried blood off his torso.

"I need to make sure you don't have any cracked ribs. You're fairly well bruised and sometimes that can be an indication of internal bleeding."

Rick, entranced in the care she showed him, said nothing as she traced her fingers lightly over his chest, pressing down in various spots, seeing how much give the ribs had and how much pain he was in. After having checked both the front and back of him, she nodded her head.

"Thankfully, none of your ribs seem cracked or worse. I imagine they're fairly well battered, however. I still think you should have your ribs wrapped for extra support." Evelyn unwrapped a long cloth and, tucking the first corner under his arm, tightly wrapped his ribs and chest in the hopes that it would speed his recovery. Tucking the end of the cloth in itself, she nodded again and stood up.

"I can't believe how lucky you were, not having any more grievous injuries than you sustained," Evelyn said. "You fought against an immortal man and _won_."

Rick took her hands in his. "Hey, I wasn't exactly alone out there. Between you, Ardeth, and even Jonathan, we managed to put old Imhotep back in the underworld where he belongs. But what about you? Are you hurt?"

Evelyn gave him a small, sweet smile and shook her head. "Nothing apart from the bruises on my wrists from the manacles," she showed him. Her wrists had some discoloration but aside from some black and blue and redness from the chafing, she did appear unharmed.

Rick brought her left hand up to his lips and kissed it. "Thank you for this. It's not often I have someone to help me, or care about how I end up."

Evelyn smiled a little larger this time. "You're welcome, Rick. I do hope you don't make a habit of this, otherwise I'll have to keep a first aid kit stocked and with me at all times." She reluctantly took her hands back and gathered the rest of the supplies. "I'll leave you to rest. And thank you, Rick, for all that you did. I… well, I'm just grateful." She looked back once more as she closed the door behind her.

It wasn't until her footsteps faded in the hallway that Rick realized the implication of her keeping a stocked first aid kit, for him and their future adventures.

Most of their ensuing forays did not involve undead enemies or gunfire, save for the occasional bandit who tried to rob them when the fools thought Rick or Evelyn weren't looking. The event that scared him most was the night he worked up the guts to propose. His palms were sweaty, his shirt felt like it was rubbing against his skin, and he even had watery eyes. When Evelyn said yes, he blocked out everything else in the world except her, including his body's warning signs. After a night out in Cairo to celebrate, Rick went to bed, dreaming bizarre situations, including standing at an altar, lifting his bride's veil to discover Imhotep was his blushing bride-to-be. It wasn't until he woke up to his head pounding and his body so tired and heavy he could barely muster the energy to roll over that he realized what his body had felt was sickness, not nerves. Getting out of bed seemed insurmountable, and leaving his room? Impossible. He would simply stay here, waiting for his body to succumb to whatever was plaguing his body.

Rick dozed through the morning, his head throbbing with the pulse of his body. At one point, he thought the pounding was offbeat but couldn't be bothered to think more about it. All he knew was what was wrong with his body. His nose was stuffed up, his eyes were scratchy and burned, his lungs felt heavy, he couldn't decide if he was hot or cold, and moving anything more than a finger required immense effort. Suddenly a hand appeared on his forehead just after his bed dipped.

"Oh, Rick. This wasn't how you envisioned the first day of our engagement, I'm sure," Evelyn said. Rick merely hummed in response. "Just sit tight, love, and I'll be back in a jiffy."

Soon after, Rick felt the bed dip again. "It's a good thing I kept my promise about that first aid kit," Evelyn said as she untangled the sheets from Rick's sweaty body. She abandoned the sheet in the corner of the room. "Here, I've got a thermometer. Put this under your tongue for a moment," Evelyn instructed. While she waited for the thermometer to get a reading, she placed a cold compress on Rick's forehead. For the first time that morning, Rick felt a modicum of relief. She removed the thermometer and leaned in to read. "Thirty-eight degrees? That's a might bit high."

Evie dipped the cloth back in the bowl of water and this time patted Rick down his face and neck. "I'm so sorry you're sick, darling," Evelyn murmured. "I'm sure you feel just awful, but it will pass, I promise."

To Rick, his fiancee's voice seemed like it was under water, but he still understood her words of comfort. He awkwardly extended his arm toward her, exhaled loudly, and fell asleep.

Evelyn kept her post by Rick's bed all day, spending the time cooling him down with the compress, convincing him to take sips of water at hourly intervals, and reading a book while he was deep in slumber. Jonathan brought her meals periodically, each time muttering about how "it was a good thing the couple were in the process of making it all official." Rick, for the most part, slept soundly, sometimes tossing his head to the other side. It wasn't until darkness fell that Evie noticed Rick mumbling into his pillow.

As she got closer, she could feel the heat radiating from his skin before she even touched him. His forehead glistened with fresh sweat and his eyes were moving furiously beneath his closed eyelids. Evie took one of his hands in hers while sweeping the hair off his forehead. As soon as she made contact, Rick's mutterings became more defined.

"Evie, Evie, the mummy, you have to be careful. He's coming for you Evie, we have to get out of here."

Evelyn quickly lit a lamp before trying to wake Rick from his feverish dream. If successful, she didn't want Rick to see someone in the dark, leering over him. "Rick, darling, Rick, wake up. It's all right, I'm right here."

Rick only continued. "Evie, run, I'll fight him. Just get out of here. Run, Evie, run!"

Evelyn shook his shoulders but still could not rouse him. Desperate, she took the bowl of water she had used earlier and dumped it on his head. Rick startled awake and sat up, immediately followed by collapsing back onto his pillows. "Evie?"

"Yes, dear, it's all right. I splashed you awake with water."

"Water? But the mummy-"

Evie could see his eyes were glassy from the fever. "The mummy is gone, Rick. We don't have to worry about him anymore."

"Gone?"

"That's right. Do you think you can get up if I help you? Your skin is very warm and you need to cool down immediately."

Rick slowly sat up, looking paler than he had all day. He was able to shuffle while being supported by Evelyn, and they made their way out of his room to the men's bathroom down the hall. As they passed Jonathan's room, Evelyn stopped their progress to knock on his door.

Jonathan answered the door, buttoning up his dress shirt. "What's all this? What on Earth are you doing with O'Connell?"

"Jonathan, he's burning up. I need to get him in a cold bath immediately. And I just, well…"

Jonathan understood what his sister was implying. Though the two were engaged, it hadn't even been 24 hours, and despite Evie's modern thirst for adventure, she still had old English morals down to her core. Jonathan was secretly pleased with her reluctance to see her betrothed completely nude, even as he grumbled and helped lighten her load by taking Rick's other arm.

"Oh, very well," Jonathan said. "But this act of goodwill had better save me from one of your scoldings about my social life."

"Yes, it's not like he hasn't saved your life once or twice since we've known him."

Jonathan silently admitted defeat as they walked up to the washroom. "Don't worry, old mum, I'm sure a bath will do him just fine."

Evelyn relinquished care of Rick for the first time that day. "Just make sure his head doesn't dip below the water," she warned.

Jonathan called back behind him "Really, what _do_ you think of me?"

As he walked in, Evie held the door open. "I'll come back with a pair of trousers for him."

"Much obliged."

As Evelyn walked back to Rick's room, she finally gave herself time to think about his feverish dream. She herself had had dreams where she was being chased by Imhotep, and had confided in Rick. She wondered how often he had dreams of his own, and wished he might have felt comfortable enough to open up to her as she had him. Rick wasn't the "sensitive soul" type and Evelyn had no desire to change him, but they were to be married, and there were certain things a person shared with their spouse. Baby steps, she reminded herself. Despite Rick having more experience in sexual matters, when it came to a committed relationship they were both new at it. Finally, she thought. Something they had equal footing on.

Selecting a pair of pants from a drawer, Evelyn made her way back to the washroom. She knocked on the door, opening it slightly. "I have his change of clothes, Jonathan."

"Jolly good. The tub's just filled up and O'Connell's already looking like the strapping Yankee he is."

"Good. I'm going to find someone on hotel staff to change his bedsheets. They're soaked through."

After finding a helpful hotel staff member to collect the soiled sheets and put on fresh ones, Evelyn sat on Rick's bed and waited. She trusted Jonathan to allow Rick to dry off and have him return to his room in one piece. When the door opened, she was happy to see that Rick was walking unaided, although he was moaning the entire time.

"Are we sure this isn't one of the plagues our undead friend let loose?" Rick asked as he crawled back into bed.

"No, I don't think influenza is one of the ten plagues, Rick."

As Evelyn helped with the top sheet, Jonathan bade them a good night. "Jolly good, then. Evie, you take care of your fiance. O'Connell, do heal up quick. Without you around, there's no one to stop me from making a fool of myself in front of women!"

"You do that when I _am_ there," Rick retorted to Jonathan's exiting back.

If Rick was able to insult her brother, then he must be feeling better, Evie reasoned. She got a good look at Rick, once again with his eyes closed, hair still dripping from the bath, his glorious chest rising and falling, rising and falling. In that moment, Evelyn wished she and Rick were getting married tomorrow so that she could have the privilege of getting to know him intimately. As tantalizing as he looked, she reminded herself that after they said "I do," they would have a lifetime to try out all the scenes flashing through Evelyn's mind. She mentally shook her head. Her betrothed was convalescing, for heaven's sake. These kinds of thoughts would do him no good.

Rick, as sick as he was, was able to pick up on her interested look after having watched him in his state of undress. Taking pity on her, and given that he had no energy to try to get more pink on her already blushing cheeks, he patted the empty space next to him on the bed. "C'mere, Evie." Evelyn followed his mumbled command and sat down next to him.

"Can I get you anything, Rick?"

"No, you've been amazing all day. I just, I needed to say thank you. No one's ever…" he shrugged, not finishing his thought.

Evelyn took his hand. "I think I understand. I know we're not yet married, but part of our vows will include 'in sickness and in health.' And these days, I take oaths very seriously."

Even as he was talking, Rick's eyes began to droop. "I want you to know I'd do the same for you. I mean, not that I want you to ever be _this_ sick…"

Evelyn smiled at him. "Thank you, Rick. That's kind of you to say."

Rick's eyes opened again. "Evie, you've been with me all day. I'm sure I'll sleep through the night. I don't want you to lose a night's sleep on my account."

"Really, Rick, it's been no trouble."

"And I'm as grateful today as I was when you took care of me the day we defeated Imhotep. But I already feel better. Please, Evelyn. Go get some sleep."

Evelyn only then felt sleep pulling at her. "Well, if you're sure. I don't want you to think I'm abandoning my post."

"Evie, with you by my side, I'm the luckiest man in the world. Believe me, you've done everything for me today. I couldn't ask for anything more. Except to see you get a full night's sleep, too."

Evie smiled. Her fiance could make a compelling argument. "Very well. Sleep well, Rick. I'll see you in the morning."

Evelyn shut his door and walked toward her room. With Rick by her side, she thought, she was the luckiest woman in the world, too.


End file.
